


Survivor

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 09:19:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13995210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Gladiolus can put up a tent.





	Survivor

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So I’m loving [my favourite Let’s Player’s rather amusing blind run of FFXV](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m5Nbw6iiHa4&index=1&t=1806s&list=PLfcejBUbhSFGS60I4bYJbNFLTJp-4-XqQ) (his first FF, oh boy) and figured I’d steal this plotbunny from him.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It isn’t the grand, sprawling kitchens of the palace, or even the high-tech kitchenette shown off in Noctis’ apartment, but it’ll do. Ignis steps back from his work when it’s all in place, the portable equipment all set up to the best of his abilities. He’s sure he’ll be able to make a decent enough meal with it, one that even his picky prince will eat. Satisfied with that particular aspect of their camp, Ignis turns to check on the others.

Noctis and Prompto are in their own little world, fully engrossed in a King’s Knight conversation while they set up the foldout chairs. Gladiolus is on the rocky ground, bent over one of the pegs of their erected tent. Gladiolus has one hand around the slender post while the other lifts a hammer, and he brings it down with speed and surety. He drills into the earth, and Ignis watches, privately impressed, until the hammer slips and slams down a smidgen off its target—right onto Gladiolus’ thumb.

Instantly, Ignis takes a step forward, hand outstretched, even though it’s far too late for him to do anything helpful. Gladiolus’ mouth opens in a silent cry of obvious pain, but his chiseled jaw snaps shut before any sound comes out. He grits his teeth together, whole face screwing up as his body doubles forward, curled around his hand. He cradles the injured thumb in his other palm. It’s tucked too out of view to see if there’s any blood, but Gladiolus was certainly hitting hard enough to cause that. Ignis asks, useless but running on instinct, “Gladio—are you alright?”

Gladiolus’ head snaps up. He manages to straighten out just in time, steeling over before Noctis and Prompto halt their chatter in favour of eyeing Gladiolus. Gladiolus answers tightly, “I’m fine.”

“What happened?” Noctis asks.

Gladiolus grunts, clipped, “Nothing.”

Frowning, Ignis counters, “I clearly saw—”

Gladiolus practically snarls, “I’m _fine_!” Ignis lifts a questioning brow, meeting Gladiolus’ burning glare head-on.

Prompto mumbles, “Uh, did we miss—”

Gladiolus rumbles right over him, “Nothing happened! I can put up a tent!”

If anything, his oddly specific protest just makes the matter all the more conspicuous. But Noctis and Prompto don’t seem to think it worth arguing over, and they shrug and return to their own business. Ignis maintains the staring contest. Gladiolus glares right back.

Eventually, Gladiolus proves too stubborn for Ignis to deal with. He sighs and shakes his head, conceding the match as he turns back to his cooking gear. But he makes a mental note to quietly and discreetly check Gladiolus’ wounded hand later, hopefully without damaging his oh-so-important survivalist reputation.


End file.
